


Tale

by baeberiibungh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Assigment Fugue, Cute, Fluff, Food, M/M, Recipes, Sleep talking, Sweet, Unlawful Desecretion of Food and Property
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Stiles is basically Goldilocks…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tale

Derek stepped in his loft and found his nose assailed by the pungent smell of teenage sweat, sweets, that weird perfume Lydia wore that always lingered on, Stiles’ favourite chapstick mixed with his scent and just about everything that smelled pack. It was of course normal, as last night had been a pack night and everyone slept on wide futons packed thick on the floor of the living room. Everyone had been there, even Peter to heckle the betas, as well as Boyd, Liam, Mason, Kira, Allison, Cora, Scott, Malia and Isaac. They had food from three different joints, watched movies and talked and Derek felt like he was home.

Come morning, everyone left, and going by the usual scenario of things, so long nothing big suddenly comes to crash their area or mess with their pack, Derek would be left alone for the day to do whatever he liked or whatever he had to. Then Stiles would be there and he would drag in Scott, who would invariably call all the others so that within the week, another pack night was just simple rule. But, for the day Derek had free reign over his life, and he usually did adult things during those scant hours, like making some home cooked food to last the week, or pay his bills or catch on his bank statement.

A thing that Derek loved was to cook, and he always cooked either in big batches or in small grouplings. The batches usually ended up being devoured by the pack, but the small grouplings, usually three or four small dishes made as experiments, Derek would taste them slowly and try to come up with ways to either make the recipes better or to correct them or decide to make enough of them someday for the whole pack. Today, before he had gone out to tackle some insurance problem, and that is one hard problem, being a werewolf and so accident prone, he made a special lasagna, a taffeta baked cake and a rosemary thyme meringue block.

Derek headed to the kitchen and washed his hands. Then he turned to his fridge and brought out the two cellophane covered dishes and then opened his oven to bring out the lasagna. It was not there. Derek brows furrowed and he leaned into the oven to check and see that yes, his lasagna was indeed missing. He looked around the kitchen, confused as to he did put it in or not when his eyes caught something by the burner. Derek stepped forward that and saw that someone had basically eaten all of his lasagna, cleaned the deep dish and had hung it on the wall rack to dry. Derek gave a small growl at that. Peter of course. And he had been looking forward to eat it too.

The lasagna was a new recipe, with three cheese sauce, fried bacon bits, garlicky chicken chunks, two different type of pasta and a thin spice rollover. The others had been new recipes as well. Derek pouted at the chance of not getting to eat something he made for the first time and promised to make Peter pay for eating his stuff without permission like the glutton he was. He turned to the other two covered dishes and then had to pinch his nose because a particular someone _fuck you Peter_ had also spooned chunks off them in a possible bid to eat them but didn’t found them tasty enough. 

Pissed and no longer hungry anymore, Derek headed towards the living room and sat down with a big huff on the big leather armchair, only to fall right over it’s back because the chair had broken in two, the back and seat completely separated. Derek jumped back up with a roar. Seriously, his favourite chair too!?! First his snack and now his chair, there was only so much a werewolf could take after all. He immediately pulled out his phone and called Peter. When Peter did not pick up the phone, Derek had to restrain himself from flinging his mobile into the wall. Seriously, that really took the cake, literally and figuratively.

Too put out to do anything, Derek clomped up the spiral stair to his bedroom and it was only after he stepped in he realized that he could smell Stiles and had actually been hearing his heartbeat as well. Derek walked up to his big and cozy bed and saw Stiles sleeping sprawled over it, his face pushed into Derek’s pillow while he clutched the other to his chest. He was so deep in sleep that he didn’t even hear Derek roar downstairs, not to mention that he was snoring. Derek listened to Stiles snore and found it very cute and then berated himself for being all creepy over a sleepy Stiles.

Derek turned to leave the room and let Stiles have the privacy of his bedroom when Stiles let out a particularly weird strangled snore. Derek tripped and put his fist through the wall. Stiles woke up startled with a ‘bwaaah’ and then promptly fell off the other side of the bed. Derek turned his head in increments to look at Stiles to see him peering over the edge of the bed sleepily. 

“Der?” Stiles said, his obvious confusion apparent. “What are you doing in my room? No wait, are the fairies fucking back?” Stiles continued in his sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes like a small kid.

“Um. You are in my bedroom Stiles,” Derek said with a frown. Is this a spell of befuddlement, Derek though. Are the fucking fairies really back?

“Whaa, no, Der, this I my bed, sleep, sleepy time now,” Stiles said climbing back into the bed again. “Finished seven assi’ment without sleeping, this my bed, sleep,” Stiles added helpfully.

Derek sighted, a bit relieved this was just Stiles crashing from a work coma. He went back to Stiles and pulled the covers over him so that Stiles hummed and then when Stiles said, “Come sleep with me,” Derek fought with his conscience for exactly five minutes before climbing into the bed and letting Stiles use him like a teddy bear, hugging his hip and thighs as he sat by the headboard. Derek pushed the hair away from his face and Stiles rubbed his cheek into Derek’s jeans. They stayed like that for a few hours and Derek, in spite of the missing lasagna and broken chair, felt content and peaceful.

**Author's Note:**

> If Stiles was goldilocks, then Derek would be...???  
> Unbetaed. Thanks for reading. Kudos and comments please.


End file.
